i'm not doing that anymore

you've reached
a point in your life
where you have
stopped doing things
that you don't want to do.
like meeting her parents,
her children,
her relatives across town.
no longer will you
taste food you can't
spell, or never heard
of. if you haven't eaten
it by now, you don't care.
no lima beans, or liver,
no carob, or hummus.
no deer, snake, or turtle
meat. get that soy milk
away from me.
you won't get on a ride
at the carnival,
not even the scrambler,
or go to another wine
festival and sip bad
wine in the hot sun
until your brain almost
bursts with a head ache.
you won't go to the opera,
or listen to banjo music,
or accordion music,
or the boston pops. stop.
no more chick flicks,
or chick books, or
holding a chick's purse
while she tries
on clothes at the mall.
you're done with food
courts too, and camping.
add fishing to the list,
or going up in a hot
air balloon to get fried
and die against
the high voltage power
lines. there are more
things, so many more
things you won't ever
do again, but your fingers
are tired from typing.
so you'll stop now.